Working Through Pain
by Gongsun Du
Summary: What if Zuko wasn't the Fire Lord he was meant to be? When the world plunged into chaos once more, he ran away to escape his failures. But even in the farthest reaches of the world he can't escape his fate. ZUTARA, R&R.


**Intro: The idea for this story came partly from a Batman: Gotham Knight episode with the same name. I've also used some of the themes from my other fanfic _Prince of Lies_ that I haven't really had a chance to focus on in that story. All in all I meant this to be a oneshot, but I have some ideas on expanding it if the reception is good. I hope you enjoy this story and that you let me know what you think via reviews.**

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Working Through Pain

"Hand it over, bitch!" The man brandished his knife, backing the woman into a corner. His companion looked on with a sick sense of amusement.

"Maybe she doesn't want us to leave." He suggested, pinning her to the wall.

"No, please!" she shrieked.

He licked his lips, "Maybe she wants a trade."

A look of horror spread across her face and the man smiled in delight. "Hold her down."

"You're sick, Hai. Just take her wallet and let's go!"

"Shut up!" He glared at his companion. "What are you worried about anyway? Ain't nobody in this city gonna do a thing to stop us." He put his knife to her throat and began to tear off her dress.

"Let her go." A voice shouted.

Spinning around, they saw a figure standing in the alleyway, its body shrouded in darkness. The two men started.

"Shit." His companion muttered.

"Get the fuck back!" The man shouted, tightening his grip on the knife. "This ain't your business."

"Please, help m–!" The woman's screams were cut short as the man elbowed her in the face.

At that, Zuko darted out of the alleyway and with a swift motion knocked the knife out of the man's hand. His companion rushed at him, but Zuko blocked his stab and kicked him in the chest–throwing him to the ground. As Zuko turned to finish the second man off, he felt a sudden stab in his abdomen. The pain that followed sent him sprawling.

Shuddering, the man lowered his arm, his dart holster empty. Frantically, he grabbed his companion and the two of them scrambled off. Even the woman, who seconds ago was helpless and paralyzed, ran like the wind, leaving Zuko alone in his agony.

Pain now poured into his torso, replacing the blood that trickled freely from the wound. Feebly, he grabbed hold of the darts and yanked them out. The cry that followed was loud and horrible; even so, no one came to help him. No one even bothered to look out their window. No one cared.

Taking a deep breath, he heated his palm and pressed it against his wound cauterizing it. The pain was extraordinary, but this time manageable. When the wound had sealed he took another deep breath and struggled to his feet.

…

Katara's healing hands glided over the wound in his chest. Immediately he felt the burning subside.

"Thank you, Katara." He whispered, still weak from Azula's strike.

Tears of relief ran down her face, "I think I'm the one who should be thanking you." Gently, she helped him raise his head.

Sitting up, Zuko smiled weakly and brushed the tears out of her eyes. "I couldn't have done it without you, Katara." He whispered, "I wanted to–" She silenced him with a kiss, soft at first but quickly growing more passionate. Her arms wrapped around his neck and they fell to the ground in eachother's embrace, at peace and blissfully ignorant of the world around them. It was over. The Hundred Year War was finally over and they had won.

When at last they parted, the tail of Sozin's comet had vanished over the horizon.

…

Zuko slammed to the ground, his legs giving out from under him. He had made it a few feet past the alley before the pain returned, stronger this time. Breathing heavily, he struggled to right himself, sweat mixing with the blood from his wound.

Only a little bit further, he thought, raising his head. But to where? He was a stranger in a strange city. The streets all looked the same; every building was identical as if it had made from the same mold. It was dark now too. He couldn't see anything in the pale moonlight and with the wound in his gut he could barely stay conscious.

Leaning his back against a wall he slumped his head, his eyelids growing heavy.

'Get up!' a voice shouted, he turned around, seeing nothing but darkness. His eyelids grew heavy once more.

'Get up!" The voice shouted again, louder this time.

"Get up, Zuko! Get up!"

…

"Get up!" Katara's voice cut through his dreams and instantly jerked him out of sleep.

"Ugh." He groaned, rising up out of bed. "Katara, what time is it?"

"It's time for another healing session." She smirked, before yanking away the blankets.

"What's the point?" He looked down at his bandaged chest, "You've heard what the physicians said. With all the damage, I'll be lucky if I make it through the week."

"I'm not giving up on you." She looked at him with determination and for a moment he believed her, but that moment quickly passed.

"Leave me alone, Katara. I know what this is. I know what you're trying to do. But I'm not some mercy case for you to pity all day long. Just leave me be!"

"Is that why you think I'm doing this? Because I pity you?"

"Then what is it?" He snarled. "Is it because of what happened with Azula? You don't owe me anything! Just go on with your life, Katara! Let me die in peace."

Katara shook her head. "I thought that after all this time you would have stopped being so thick-headed." He looked at her puzzled. "Or did that kiss mean nothing to you?"

"Katara…"

She grabbed his hand and brought it to her face, "Don't you get it?" she murmured, gently brushing her cheek against it. "I love you, you moron. And I don't care what the physicians or anybody else says. I'm not giving up on you. Not now, not ever."

…

Zuko shivered back to consciousness. His body seemed cold and lifeless now, yet despite the loss of blood it felt heavier than ever. Biting his lip, he crawled to his feet, putting his weight up against a wall. For a while he stood there, not moving. His breath came heavily, in out, in out. Zuko felt his vision begin to grow dark once more, but he forced himself awake and prodded on. Saying to himself, just a few more feet.

Even so, each footstep felt like a mile. The ground beneath him seemed to swirl and contort with every movement as if purposely trying to knock him back down. Even the solid brick wall on which he leaned felt at times like a pool of water–rising and falling beneath his hand.

A stab of pain went through his guts and Zuko fell to the ground, coughing up blood.

"I can't go any further." He muttered, "I can't…"

…

"I can't do this anymore, Katara." He kept his gaze on the ground, not daring to look her in the eyes.

"Zuko look, what happened in the colonies wasn't your fault. You ordered them not to attack. The General disobeyed, he's to blame not you."

"It's not just that." He muttered, forcing himself to sound sure. "Katara, I can't be Fire Lord anymore. It's too much. I can't handle the pressure."

"But you have to. You're the only one–"

"That's just it, Katara. I can't do this by myself." He sighed. "Ever since Uncle died, it's gone from bad to worse. There's no one to help. No one. Sokka's busy with Republic City. Toph with her Metalbending School. And as to Aang…well you heard for yourself, he never wants to see us again."

"But I'm still here." She whispered.

Zuko raised his head and saw for the first time that she was crying. His heart told him to put aside his worries. To embrace her, hold her, to get through it together. But his mind was made up.

"Please, Zuko, don't go." She went on, pleading. "This nation needs you. The world needs you. I need you."

He turned away, "I'm sorry, Katara. I just can't."

…

Zuko's vision was fading now, growing dimmer with each passing moment. Coughing up blood, he tried to raise himself once more, but this time his body refused to budge. Zuko felt the numbness creeping its way up his arms and legs, like so many spiders. Soon it would reach his heart and then it would all be over. No more pain. No more regret. Just a vast emptiness. Freedom at last.

He no longer heard the rustling of the wind nor felt the breeze on his face. All around him, everything was slowing down, moving further and further away, fading into the dark, disappearing into nothingness. As he closed his eyes on the cold and empty world he thought he heard Katara's voice calling his name.


End file.
